


if i close my eyes to sleep (will you die before i wake?)

by EllisLuie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Sibling Bonding, poor Ben is traumatized by the Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25295788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllisLuie/pseuds/EllisLuie
Summary: It’s hours past their bedtime, the house around him completely still and quiet, and Ben is terrified of going to sleep.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 97





	if i close my eyes to sleep (will you die before i wake?)

**Author's Note:**

> just love me some hargreeves angst, esp my boys

It’s hours past their bedtime, the house around him completely still and quiet, and Ben is terrified of going to sleep.

He can still feel the blood all over his face and his hands, even though he’d scrubbed himself pink in the bath, over and over again until he was sure it was gone. His uniform is in Mom’s capable hands, so there’s nothing in his room to even hint at the violence from earlier, but he can still smell it, taste it, copper on his tongue, in his nose, everywhere. He sees it behind his eyelids, the redredred of the blood smeared on the walls, hears the screaming and, worse, the  _ squelching _ of the bodies. 

But that isn’t why he can’t sleep. Disgustingly, horrifically, he’s used to the blood, at least to a small degree. He’s never come out of training quite so soaked in it before, and it turns out all the practice and training in the world can’t compare to the real thing, but Ben has been awash in blood his whole life. He’s used to the nightmares, the dreams of red rooms and tacky hands.

It’s the sinister rumblings in his middle that are keeping him awake.

Dad and his siblings call them the Horror, the things that live inside him, and Ben thinks that’s fitting enough because he feels pretty horrific. He doesn’t know where he ends and they begin, doesn’t know where they come from, why they share his body, but it doesn’t matter because Dad stopped trying to figure out the  _ why  _ and the  _ how  _ of their powers years ago. Now he just cares about control, growing their powers, exercising their abilities. 

Ben doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make any progress at that when the  _ things  _ inside him are separate entities with a mind of their own. He doesn’t control them, he’s just a door, a host, a prison, and they hate him for it, or maybe they’re indifferent towards him. What significance is a human child to an ancient horror? 

He only ever dares let them out during training, when he’s in a reinforced room that they could probably rip apart if they really wanted to, but Dad always provides them a suitable distraction. They prod and push at him all the time, testing the strength of the door, seeing if he’ll let them out whenever they want. He’s learned to clamp down on them, keep them contained, even when they get restless and painful, because releasing them around people, innocent bystanders, his siblings, is not an option.

They get to have their fun during training, and they’ve reached a tentative truce over the years. Ben knows his semblance of control over them is a facade, a sense of security they let him keep to humour him, but as long as they get to play during training, they let him keep the door closed around the people he cares about.

But today was their first real mission as the Umbrella Academy. The first time Ben had to step forward and do his part, release the Horror on the men threatening his siblings. Dad has never been interested in taking hostages. 

The Horror has never had the chance to play to their heart’s content like that before, never had so many toys to toss around, never had Ben be so lenient, letting them do what they wish. He’d hated it, hated the violence and the gore and the red of all the blood, but he’d been scared, too. Scared for his siblings, just in the other room, and what if one of the men had gotten free of the Horror because Ben was too scared of losing control, what if they got away only to hurt one of the others? So he’d let the monsters out and hadn’t drawn them back in until everything was still and red.

They want more.

He can feel it, the restless hunger under his skin, pushing, pushing, pushing to get free. They’re riled up and eager, ravenous for more, and Ben can’tcan’t _ can’t  _ let them out. It’s taking all his focus to keep them in, and even though he knows his spindly arms won’t make a difference, he keeps them wrapped around his torso anyway, a physical reminder.

If he sleeps, they might get out. 

Five’s the only one who sleeps on the same floor, the rest below them, but if Ben lapses in control and the Horror gets free, they’ll rip apart the whole floor, Ben and Five included. And who’s to say they’ll stop there? Maybe they’ll keep going, demolishing the walls, taking apart the entire house one piece at a time, until they reach the rest of his siblings, oblivious and asleep and defenseless. Ben knows that nothing can stop the Horror, not Diego’s knives, not Luther’s strength,  _ nothing _ . So Ben has to stay awake, to keep them safe.

He wonders if the monsters in his middle can still feel the blood as much as he can.

His room is dark and quiet and it’ll be hours yet before Mom tap-taps at his door to call him down for breakfast. He just has to last until then. 

(Except then he’ll be around his siblings, dangerously close, and the monsters will surge and push to be let out, and he can’t, can’t risk it now, rooms away from his brothers and sisters, and he certainly can’t risk it in the morning, sitting around the same table. It won’t end, there’s no magic cure, because the Horror has tasted blood and it wants more, and Ben will never, never let it hurt his siblings - )

There’s a knock at his door.

It’s quick and sharp and less than a courtesy because the person on the other side doesn’t wait for an answer before cracking the door and slipping inside.

It’s Klaus, of course it’s Klaus, because he’s the only one who makes it a sport of sneaking out of his room at night and skirting the cameras. Ben hadn’t even heard him on the stairs, which means he’s been practicing.

Klaus tiptoes across the room to the bed, hovering for a moment and squinting in the dark. Ben meets his eyes, just as big and frightened as the other, and Klaus doesn’t waste a second to join him under the covers.

Ben jerks back because Klaus shouldn’t be here, in his room, next to him, because Ben is  _ dangerous _ , doesn’t he know that? If Ben makes even the slightest mistake, the Horror will kill Klaus in an instant, not because it plans to or because it’s malicious, but just because Klaus is close by and terribly squishy, filled with the redredred.

“Klaus,” Ben hisses into the dark, grabbing his brother’s wrist when he reaches out to him. “You - You can’t be here.”

Klaus stills, his wriggling to get closer going on pause. “Ben?” he says, voice soft.

“What if they get out?” Ben whispers, words wobbly. He drops Klaus’s wrist and goes back to pressing the Horror back into his stomach with his hands. “What if I hurt you?”

Klaus is stubborn and stupid and too kind for his own good, because he doesn’t let any concern for his own safety stop him from reaching out and yanking Ben into his arms. Klaus is taller than Ben by a few inches, is the tallest of all of them except Luther, but he’s also a beanpole, stretched tall and thin. He wraps his arms around Ben tightly and Ben is engulfed, pressed into his brother’s chest, and he can still feel the monsters moving under his skin.

“You’d never hurt me,” Klaus says in his ear, certain and confident and naive. 

Ben can’t stop seeing the red from earlier, this time covering his brother, but he tentatively detaches one arm from his stomach to curl around Klaus. He wonders if Klaus can feel the buzzing under the skin, the shifting and stretching of something Other. If he can, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“If Dad catches us, you’ll be in trouble,” Ben says, though he knows that has never stopped him before.

“I don’t care,” Klaus says. “I saw your face earlier, after we got home. And I think - I don’t really want to be alone either.” He takes in a shaky breath, dropping his face to Ben’s shoulder.

“Ghosts?” Ben asks quietly, sympathetically.

Klaus nods. “Some of them followed us back. Not all of them, but the angry ones.” He laughs a little shrilly. “Ooh, are they ever angry. One of them is following Diego and I can hear the yelling through the wall.”

Ben creases his brow. “Why would he be following Diego? Aren’t they usually drawn to you?”

Klaus doesn’t answer and it takes Ben a long time to realize. He catches his breath in surprise, pulling away (immediately missing the warmth, the human heartbeat, the soothing feeling of Klaus’s hug keeping the monsters at bay) and looking at Klaus with shock and guilt.

“They follow the person who - who killed them?” he says, and his voice is all wrong, too high, too broken. “ _ Klaus _ . There must be - so many here, with me. Oh, God. Why are you  _ here _ ?” He doesn’t think he’s started crying, but he sounds like it. He thinks of all the people the Horror gleefully ripped apart, imagines all the ghosts that must be crowding his bedroom right now, staring at him, hating him. Will they stick around forever? Will he always have an endless crowd of ghosts, the people he killed, following him, yelling at him, for as long as he lives? He can’t see them, but that almost doesn’t matter, because he’s suddenly nauseous.

Klaus shakes his head and tugs Ben back, latching onto him again. Ben doesn’t resist the hug, letting Klaus cling to him and winding his own arms around his brother, suddenly needing to squeeze him just as tight as Klaus is squeezing him.

“I just don’t want to be alone,” Klaus says miserably. “And I know you don’t either. The ghosts are loud everywhere, no matter where I go, no matter whose room I sneak into, so I might as well come to you. Besides, you give the best hugs, Benny.” 

“The Horror - ” he starts, because if Klaus stays he won’t be able to stop himself from falling asleep, wrapped up warm and (falsely) safe. If the Horror hurts Klaus, Ben will never forgive himself.

“You won’t let them,” Klaus says definitively. “I trust you.”

Ben wants to tell him that that doesn’t matter, because no matter how much Ben doesn’t want anything to happen, the Horror won’t listen to him. They don't care how much Klaus trusts Ben, how much Ben loves Klaus, they just care about getting out and  _ destroying _ .

But he finds he doesn’t have the words, breath stolen from him, and besides, Klaus is too stupid to listen. 

So he doesn’t say anything, just settles in next to Klaus, still clinging to each other tight. He lets Klaus bury his face between Ben’s neck and the pillow, keeping his eyes hidden from the rest of the room and his ears partially covered, and in return Klaus holds him together, arms around his middle. Klaus’s scrawny arms present even less of a barrier than Ben’s, but he breathes a little easier knowing Klaus will keep him from coming apart.

If the Horror gets out, Klaus will be the first to die, and Five is still vulnerable across the hall. But their shifting presence is less daunting and all-consuming now, with Klaus breathing in his ear, blankets uncomfortably warm and twisted around their legs.

Ben can still feel the blood caking his hands, and he thinks he’ll always be uneasy risking control with the Horror. But he manages to fall asleep beside his brother, and even though he wakes up after a few hours from a nightmare (red rooms and tacky hands, grasping at his brothers, trying to pull them away from the screaming bodies on the floor), Klaus snorts in his sleep and pulls Ben back down to the pillow, and it isn’t long before he drifts off again.


End file.
